


The Thirst Is Real

by LKChoi



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, M/M, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Smut, even though there sort of was-ish. idk lol, i think it counts as porn without plot???, key is a D who wants the D, minkey, tagging on AO3 is funny XD, the thirst is most certainly real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LKChoi/pseuds/LKChoi
Summary: Minho thinks Key has had too much to drink. Key wants nothing more than a tall drink of water





	The Thirst Is Real

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a past Key Instagram post, where according to him, Minho was challenging him to a drinking competition by coincidentally drinking a can of beer lmfao. By the way, yes, this is pure porn and I am not ashamed lmfao XDXDXD

Minho didn’t like the situation one bit.

He didn’t like that he felt slow and drowsy. That his strength was a third of what it normally was. That he could barely use it to properly support himself or Kibum who clung to his side. He didn’t like that his heart kept pounding in his chest as Key’s delicate hands splayed across his pecks, lightly brushing his nipples in the process of clutching his shirt. Minho had a bird’s eye view of Key’s chest, pale and sweaty beneath his baggy striped shirt. That sight alone was making things much harder on him in more ways than one.

Key, on the other hand, was enjoying every minute of it.

He loved how the room felt peculiarly soft and intangible like a hazy dream. He loved that the only thing that felt solid was Minho’s more than solid muscles against his palm. He loved the shiver he evoked from Minho when he purposely grazed a pert nipple as he clung to his shirt. He loved how much effort Minho was putting into supporting him, knowing that he couldn’t do it himself. Most of all, Kibum loved how, (in spite of any frustration Minho was probably feeling), that their goals were the same: to get him back to his hotel room.

Key moved his hand off Minho’s chest and reached up to poke at his cheek, laughing childishly at the glare he received in response.

“Minho-yah.”

Minho’s name dragged on Kibum’s tongue in that deep croaky voice that told him Key had too much to drink. Minho sighed, wishing Key had realized that when he was sipping his fourth beer, or his fifth glass of red wine, or the ninth of either. Kibum’s voice was an enticing sound, powerful enough to devastate Minho’s resolve entirely. But he was determined to endure. Getting his drunk boyfriend safely back to his room was his priority. Resisting the urge to pin him against a wall when they got there was an entirely different story.

“Minho,” Key grumbled when he didn’t respond.

“What?” Minho snapped, voice laced with frustration of several kinds.

“Are you mad because you lost the drinking competition?”

Minho knew a Kibum taunt when he heard one. He knew that quirked lip and amused glance. He knew that low laughter that made his shoulders shake and rolled up in his throat, exploding into a malicious cackle. And he knew that Key was trying to get him riled up.

Unfortunately, it was working.

It made Minho want to shut him up with his lips. To shove his pelvis into him so hard that his mocking laughter would turn into needy moans. But all he could do was pray to God he could get his drunk friend out of the room before he was tempted to toss him down on a table and fuck him right then and there.

Key was at the point of drunkenness when absolutely nothing could be funny yet everything was to him. He was literally clinging to Minho, and that was hilarious. Minho was horny and seething and that was just priceless. Minho’s unsteady movements, his lack of energy, and even the rancid smell of beer on his breath…all funny as hell!

The party had dragged on for hours after the wrap of their last concert. Another successful dome tour in the bag. The other members and most of the staff had already turned in for the night, with only a few lingering to consume the remaining food and alcohol provided by the hotel. They were primarily wasted. Even their manager was begging for help to be freed from an alleged magnetized couch that wouldn’t let him go.

Nevertheless, that didn’t completely shield them from peeping eyes and open ears. Getting drunk with the crew wasn’t a new thing, but idols needed to be wary, even with those closest to them. Apparently, Kibum had forgotten that mid-binge. If Minho didn’t get them out of the room before questions were asked and his alcohol-fueled blabber-mouth partner started answering, they could end up in a world of scandal or worse.

After a few speculative glances and dodged questions, Minho managed to convince whoever asked that nothing strange was going on. He was simply the first to find Key stuck to a chair while the others had already turned in for the night. That his best friend’s wandering hands meant he was just too drunk and afraid to let him go. Whether they believed him or not wasn’t something he had time to contemplate. They had finally made it to the hallway and could see the silver glory of elevator doors sliding open.

Minho never said a word about losing their drinking competition that Key had started on his own. He didn’t reply to his mockery. He didn’t spare any of that a single bit of attention; or so Key thought.

As soon as they were alone and the steel doors slid together, Key found himself trapped between cold metal and warm chest as Minho took him by his hips and kissed him against the back wall of the elevator. He felt drunk. Off the alcohol circulating through his system. Off the taste of yeast and acidity on Minho’s tongue. Off the hum of the elevator ascending towards his floor.

Minho pulled away slowly, leaving Key winded and slacking against the wall, grabbing onto his shirt so he wouldn’t fall completely. Minho towered over him, gazing down into his eyes, watching the defeat take over.

Minho grinned. He loved how the tables had turned.

How Key’s lips were still wet from his kiss. How Kibum’s attachment to his shirt was so desperate, relying on nothing else but him to stay grounded. How it was him, not the alcohol, making Key hot and flustered.

“This isn’t over,” Key panted.

Minho smirked and stepped an inch closer, bringing a hand to his chin, tracing beneath it with his fingertips.

“I know.”       

…

And it certainly wasn’t.

No sooner than the hotel door slammed shut, Minho found himself pressed against it. It rattled on its hinges as Key kissed him fervently, one hand gliding up to massage his neck while the other crept into his hair. Minho moaned into the kiss, their tongues twisting together as one hand gripped the doorknob and the other went down to Kibum’s ass, gripping firmly as Key pressed into him.

Key was too impatient to take things slowly and far too drunk and horny not to want a face full of Minho right this second. He broke the kiss and took a step back, breathing heavily as he gave Minho’s shirt a rough tug.

“Off. Now,” he commanded.

Minho chuckled. He knew Key didn’t have enough patience to play any of his usual games. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he felt relieved by that, and perhaps, even a little bit victorious.

Minho complied without hesitation because just as much as Key’s lowered inhibitions had gotten to him, so had Minho’s. It really didn’t take much for either of them to feel as eager as they did now. A bit of teasing, subtle glances and touches, and even harsh trash talk. Small things like that often piled up and spilled over in their minds, leaving them both with the singular thought of _fuck me now_.

As he peeled off his shirt, Minho could feel the scrutiny as Key admired the flex of his muscles. The way Kibum shamelessly took in all of his features knowing that every inch of his body belonged to _him_ never failed to gratify Minho. He worked hard for his figure and to have Key admire it so possessively thrilled him in indescribable ways.

Key didn’t spare another second before splaying his hands across Minho’s bare chest. Minho shuddered when sharp fingernails dragged from his collarbones, down his pecs, and through the firm rows of muscle along his abdomen, then hooked behind the waistband of his jeans.

Key dropped to his knees, sucking his bottom lip as he unfastened Minho’s pants. When he lowered the band of Minho’s boxers, his eyes widened as Minho’s cock sprang free, hard and aching. 

If he was sober, Key would be more methodical about blowing Minho. He would take his time rolling his jeans down his legs, pecking the insides of his thighs as he went down. He would tease him, slowly licking trails along his shaft with his tongue and dipping it in and out of the slit. He would grip his base, lapping at the head, making him want something he wouldn’t give.

Not until Minho begged and whined. Not until he thrust into his tight fist, wishing it was his mouth. Not until he broke.

But now, Key was the desperate one. His breath hitched at the glorious sight and his heart pounded in his ears. He licked his lips, settling his hands upon Minho’s bare hips. He wanted, _needed_ it.

Minho’s head lolled back and he sucked in a breath as Key licked and pecked at his cock, making little needy noises as he did so. He slipped his fingers through the thick strands of Key’s curly brown hair, glancing back down as he gathered a lock of it in a fist. Understanding the cue, Key sucked the head of his cock between slicked lips and glanced up into Minho’s eyes.

Key wrapped one hand around the base while tightening his hold of Minho’s hip. Without breaking eye contact, Key took him in one throbbing inch at a time until the head pressed into the back of his throat. He swallowed to avoid gagging and the sudden constriction made Minho shudder. Key’s eyes fluttered closed and he pulled away, stopping at the head to suck it hungrily before slowly bobbing his head up and down Minho’s shaft.

Minho released a shaky breath and trapped his other hand in Key’s hair, trying not to pull it hard or thrust forward. But that was quickly becoming a challenge as Minho watched him work, his hot mouth gliding along Minho’s dick as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked him off with reckless abandon. Just the sight of his pouty lips thinly stretched around it was making his head spin.

Key loosened the grip around his base and started to stroke him, moving his hand clockwise and counterclockwise up and down the shaft wherever his mouth didn’t reach. When he quickened his pace, Minho moaned and the grip in his hair tightened. Key ignored the slight pain at his roots and focused on sucking harder and greedier, his fingers meeting his lips midway down Minho’s shaft. Then, he removed the hand that was on Minho’s hip and reached down to cup his balls.

“Fuck,” cursed Minho breathlessly, flinching as Key massaged them gently, his knees quivering as his orgasm started to creep up on him.

“K-Kibum-ah,” Minho stuttered, the tension in his hands making them ache as he gripped Key’s hair tighter. “I’m so close.”

Key released a loud muffled moan and sucked harder, moving his hand off Minho’s cock and pawing at Minho’s pelvis as his mouth sank farther down his shaft. Minho buckled, his legs almost giving out completely when, once again, his dick hit the back of Key’s throat. This time, instead of backing off, Key glanced up, eyes glistening with tears and lips red and swollen as he waited.

Key wanted to savor it. The pain at the roots of his hair. His mouth filled to capacity. The hard press of Minho’s dick at the back of his throat. He had long since forgotten the bitterness of wine and the mulch of beer. He wanted to drink something milky. Something salty.

With that look, Minho knew he had permission to let loose. He pulled back just slightly before thrusting forward, guiding Key’s head up and down his shaft. Key kept eye contact as Minho rocked his hips and panted, watching his face through the shallow tears, breathing carefully through his nose so he wouldn’t miss a single second of Minho’s blissed out expression.

Somewhere in the back of Minho’s mind, the danger of discovery still lingered. If they were too loud and someone overheard them. If someone could recognize their voices even in the throes of passion through thick hotel walls. It was careless. It was irresponsible. It was crazy. But it felt so damn _right_.

The harder Key sucked, the higher his temperature climbed. The more the alcohol fucked with his senses, the less anything else mattered.

Minho’s mind whirled and his rationale melted away, lost in the heat that coiled in his stomach and sank into his pelvis, sinking lower by the second as he fucked Key’s mouth.

Key’s nails dug into his skin and he gave Minho’s balls a few firm squeezes, every one harder than the last. Then, in one blinding moment, Minho’s orgasm hit him like a truck, leaving him moaning and his legs trembling, practically pulling Key’s hair out as he came down his throat.

Key’s eyes clenched shut, groaning as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. His entire body shook as he carefully swallowed, taking it all as Minho filled his mouth. Minho pulled out, leaving Key gasping as he stumbled back against the wall feeling winded. Key fell onto the balls of his feet, thighs spread and arms limp at his sides as he panted, breathing air into his wrecked lungs.

“Shit,” was all Key managed to say once his breath steadied.

Minho took a few deep breaths before standing straight and reaching down. Key allowed himself to be helped off the floor, falling against Minho’s chest as he was scooped into an embrace for a kiss. He shuddered as their lips glided together, the taste of cum still lingering as their tongues danced.

After a minute of feverish kisses, Minho pulled away, cupping Key’s face lovingly.

“You okay?” he asked sincerely.

Key smirked. It was always amazing that no matter what the situation was Minho always took a moment to make sure he was fine. He had just wrecked his mouth, yet if Kibum asked, he would abandon his wants and tuck him into bed and make tea for his sore throat. He would probably brave a blizzard if they had no honey. It was such a tender facet of his personality. One of the endless list of reasons why he loved him.

“I’m fine,” Key smiled. “I’ll be even better once you fuck me thoroughly.”

“Okay,” Minho chuckled. “Where’s your lube?”

“Top drawer of the nightstand.”

“So prepared,” Minho praised. “Were you touching yourself imagining that?”

He grinned widely and Key scowled.

“You wish,” he spat.

Key wormed his way out of Minho’s arms, shoving him in the chest before walking towards the bedroom, stripping off the rest of his clothes along the way. Minho chuckled and followed, grabbing the lube before climbing onto the bed with him.  

If Minho was ever drunk at all, then that blowjob sobered him up. Key, on the other hand, was further intoxicated by it, showing just how much as he kissed Minho fervently and his hands clumsily wandered his body. Minho took the reigns from him, guiding him on his back and lightly pushing his hands away as he kissed a trail down Key’s chest.

Key shuddered when Minho got down to his neglected cock. Minho peered up to watch him gasp, humming while sucking the sensitive head between his lips and swirling his tongue around its circumference before gliding his mouth down the shaft. As Minho continued to take extra care in treating it, he lifted one of Key’s thighs over his shoulder, uncapping the lube with his free hand.

Kibum’s back arched off the bed as Minho serviced him, a startled gasp escaping him as one cold coated finger entered him. Key panted, fisting the sheets as Minho sucked his dick thoroughly, spreading him open as he moved the digit around. After getting him used to the stretch of one, Minho added another. Key was a wreck, moaning desperately as his dick throbbed in Minho’s hot mouth and his hole clenched around his fingers. He nearly choked when Minho curled those long thick fingers and struck his sweet spot, his toes curling as he buried the crown of his head into the pillow.

Minho gave Key’s dick a lingering suck from base to head before letting it fall from his mouth. Key whined at the absence of warmth, but gave up protesting when a third finger entered him. Minho was half hard again by then, but aching with need by the time he added a fourth. Key shuddered every time he grazed his prostate, which made Minho ache even more, knowing that he needed something much harder and thicker to push him over the edge. Once he was stretched open, almost to the point where his thumb could possibly join the other four fingers, he withdrew his hand, making Key whine at the absence.

But Key didn’t have to wait much longer after that to feel full once again. Minho climbed further up the bed, crushing one lifted leg against Key’s chest as he bent down to kiss him while guiding his cock inside. Key could barely breathe as he was kissed and penetrated until Minho sat up on his knees, hooking Key’s knees over his shoulders.

Key tried catching his breath but it hitched again as soon as Minho started to thrust. He went slow at first, allowing Kibum to adjust to the new intrusion. After a few experimental strokes, Key turned into a keening puddle of his former self when Minho struck his prostate. When his walls clenched, Minho’s head rocked back and he panted into the air as he held Key’s thighs against his chest.

This was the level of intoxication Key had wanted to reach. When his body was filled with so much heat that it felt like his organs were nothing but melted mush sitting at the pit of his stomach. When he was so dizzy that if he stood upright, the world would turn on its axis. When he felt so undeniably drawn and connected to Minho that it was impossible to feel like a separate person.

Drunk off the alcohol that coursed through his veins. Drunk off the electricity surging through his body wherever Minho touched. Drunk off the sound of their voices distorted by wanton need.

Drunk off Minho.

Minho was just as gone, his heart racing as he picked up speed and struck Kibum’s sweet spot repeatedly. But they both wanted more. Needed him to go deeper. Minho lifted Key’s legs off his shoulders and pressed both thighs into Key’s chest, his hands splayed across the back of them as he pounded into him harder.

Key went from soft moaning to shouting, his body tremoring as he lay trapped beneath his own body and Minho’s, not knowing what else to do with his hands except wrap them around Minho’s neck to pull him closer. Minho’s head drooped down and he rested his forehead against Key’s, calming his pace to stroke tauntingly slow while still hitting where he needed to. It was twice as intense, being so close that their heated breaths mingled, lips barely brushing but incapable of kissing.

Key wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck as Minho buried his face in his, whispering soft words of adoration and praise into his ear. The drunkenness was turning into a high, a weightless feeling that was making his soul float out of his body, lifting it, taking it higher to someplace infinitely warmer and blissful.  

But Key wanted to get there faster. His senses were ablaze and his body would give out soon. He needed to chase that feeling while he had the strength to.

“Minho,” he begged. “Minho.”

“Yeah?” Minho huffed in question.

“Switch,” he suggested. “Let me ride you.”

There would never be a reason for Minho to deny that request. If anything, he was hoping for it. He knew that Key was great at taking him, but he excelled at taking control even more. Even drunk, he wanted control of his orgasm, wanted to take them both there. Minho would never dream of objecting to it.

Minho grabbed hold of Key’s hips and collapsed onto his side, dragging him on top and keeping them connected as he rolled onto his back. Key spread his aching thighs at either side of Minho’s waist and planted both hands on his stomach, Minho’s breath caught in his throat, watching and _feeling_ as Key lifted his ass slowly before settling himself comfortably on his dick.

Key lifted and dropped slowly at first, experimenting with the new angle before gaining momentum. As he started lifting quicker, dropping harder, and moaning louder, Minho buried his head in the pillow, moaning little yeses and bits of gratitude as he gripped his hips. His body rocked as Key bounced madly, fingernails digging crescents into the sweaty skin of his abdomen. He hissed when Kibum dragged them down, the tiny nicks spreading and turning into tiny scars that quickly started to bleed.

“Shit,” spat Minho, glancing down at the red marks.

Fear flashed through his mind once again, a second of reason amidst blissful chaos. But he pushed it back down. They were so close, so intimate. So real. Just two drunken lovers, whose names slipped off each other’s tongues like the warm drops of sweat rolling down their joined bodies.

Moments like this, when their feelings were so undeniably raw, and it drove their exhausted bodies to move in search of something so much deeper than ecstasy. Minho would revel in it every second if he had the chance. Drink it all in. Let it rest on his tongue. Burn through his body. Warm his heart.

This wasn’t just mind-blowing sex. It was the best buzz in the world. And Minho was intoxicated.

Key had to cling to Minho’s shoulders when he suddenly sat up, throwing off his balance. The new position had him spreading his legs wider, his inner-thighs aching as Minho came closer and gripped his hips.

“Bummie,” Minho said in a shaky voice.

“Yeah?” Kibum asked breathlessly, heart stuttering in his chest.

Minho leaned in, closing his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss on his mouth. Key watched him withdraw, opening his eyes and locking them onto his own. There was so much emotion in that glance. So much passion, sincerity, understanding: love.

Kibum flushed. They were still connected, Minho’s dick throbbing inside him as his walls clenched around it. Sitting still like this was twice as intense as sucking him off or riding him had been. Yet what came next, three words he’s heard countless times in countless ways over the years they had spent together, was the most intense thing he’d experienced the entire night.

“I love you.”

It would be so easy to say them back, yet it seemed to be the most impossible thing to do for Kibum in that moment. He felt so overwhelmed. Perhaps it was all the shit he drank. Perhaps it was all the things they did. All he could do was thank all gods in existence that this man was _his_.

He couldn’t say a thing, and Minho seemed to understand, because he didn’t spare any time replacing his gentle kiss with a passionate one. Kibum moaned into it, wrapping his arms tightly around Minho’s neck as Minho’s hands guided his hips upward. Then, with one sharp jerk of Minho’s hips, he was penetrated to the hilt.

Kibum broke the kiss with a shout, followed by a weaker keen, winded and shocked by being filled so much so quickly. But Minho was relentless. He didn’t give him a second to respond, taking control all over again as he thrust up into him.

Key wrapped his tired legs around Minho’s waist, clinging to him and resting his head against his collarbones as Minho pounded into him.

“Love you…love you…”

The words fell from Key’s mouth like heartfelt prayers spoken in whispers between church pews. Drowned out by large imposing bells. Spoken from honest hearts, strong enough to reach somewhere higher. Spoken in faith and love.

Minho’s heart thundered in his chest and thrummed in his ears as he pounded into Kibum, the heat in his gut once again coiling, curling and sinking, spurred on by his lover’s pleas against his hot skin. Key was closer than ever, his heart pounding against his own. His soft hair brushing Minho’s neck. His arms clinging to him as if he’d fall through the ground if he were to ever let go.

Minho slowed his pace, only to guide them into a position that landed Key on his back and Minho on top of him. Minho gripped his hips, adjusting his angle before slamming into him again, earning him a lengthy keen and a slew of curse words from Key. When Key’s legs loosened around his waist, Minho took the opportunity to grab his thighs, spreading them and pressing them down against his chest.

“Fuck…Min…”

Kibum’s words were lost as Minho thrust harder and faster. His head was a mess, filled only with the sounds of Minho groaning and his own helpless moans. This is what he wanted. All of Minho. Everything and anything his body and heart could take. Everything Minho was willing to give.

And there it was, that electric current that spiked all of Key's nerves and made every inch of his skin feel like it was on fire. That blinding sensation that left him trembling violently and made his eyes roll back. Minho’s hips stuttered forward and he released a quivering gasp as his orgasm hit him just as hard, his seed filling Kibum’s tight hole.

Minho pulled out slowly and collapsed on the bed beside his lover. Kibum grunted as he carefully stretched his legs out and let them fall flat onto the bed. They both said nothing, taking a few minutes to catch their breaths.

In spite of the fight his body wanted to put up, Key allowed Minho to help him out of bed. After quickly cleaning, they tossed the dirty sheets and crashed together on the bare mattress. Both were worn out and they groaned when they realized they had schedules in the morning. Now it made sense that everyone went to bed so early. It didn’t matter though. Not when their eyes were already droopy and their limbs screamed for rest.

They fell asleep without saying another word to each other. They were far too tired, and quite frankly, too damn drunk. But Key wore a grin as he slipped into dreamland.

Because, after all, this was exactly what he wanted.

**END**


End file.
